


only human after all

by luthien82



Category: Glee, Iron Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Kid Fic, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 23:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10752165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luthien82/pseuds/luthien82
Summary: You're not born to be a parent. You're growing into it. That's a lesson Tony Stark has yet to learn.





	only human after all

**Author's Note:**

> It's been... way too long since I've written anything that wasn't a university paper. I thought I'd lost my mojo, and then I read [this tumblr post](http://hanthelion.tumblr.com/post/114478411412/i-asked-my-dad-if-i-have-ever-made-him-cry-in) and I thought, "Oh, hey, that could be something in that Blaine Anderson Stark AU you always wanted to write." And I sat down and I... wrote. For the first time in over two years.
> 
> It isn't much and it has the potential to turn into more, but for the moment I really don't know so it stands alone. I'm playing it a little loose with Tony's age because I honestly have no idea how old he's supposed to be in the movies but I figured if I'm going with the Glee timeline, it should work that Tony is 42 when Blaine is 17.
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoy.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The Avengers is the property of Marvel Studios, Paramount Pictures, Joss Whedon and a whole lot of other people who are not me. Glee and its characters are the intellectual property of Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and 20th Century Fox. No money is being made by the creation of this piece of fan work. No harm is intended, it's all in good fun.

If asked, Tony Stark was the first person to tell you that he’d be a terrible parent. He wasn’t planning on having children at all, after his own disastrous childhood where the only parental figure in his life was their ancient butler. It was best, in his own expert opinion, that he should never attempt to be a father. You only did things you were going to excel at; that’s what Howard had instilled in him and that’s what Tony lived by.

Blaine was an accident.

Sometimes, you could do everything right and everybody was doing everything they could to protect themselves and it still happened. It was safe to say that Tony, 25 and high on life, had never expected to ever hear from his one night stand ever again. When Hannah Anderson told him she was pregnant, he was shocked and terrified. He had no business being a parent, let alone be mature enough to even attempt it. But the terror dissipated quickly, because Hannah didn’t want her child to be subjected to the public scrutiny of being a Stark.

Neither did Tony, for that matter.

So they drew up documents acknowledging that Tony was the father even though the child would take Hannah’s last name. They also stated that he would support them financially but would otherwise stay out of their lives unless specifically asked to participate. In turn, Hannah agreed to keep him informed about their child’s progress but remain quiet on who the father of her baby was.

They went on to live their lives. Tony invented new weapons and groundbreaking new tech that never truly left his workshop, drank his body weight in expensive brandy to _forget_ that he was inventing things that killed people, and fucked his way through New York’s high society for the same reason. Hannah finished her degree in biochemistry, gave birth to a beautiful baby boy who she named after her grandfather, and got a nice and quiet job in a lab in Columbus, Ohio. She sent Tony pictures on Blaine’s birthdays and other significant holidays, and received expensive gifts in return. That’s as far as their contact with each other went and that’s how they wanted it.

It worked well for them until Blaine turned three and Hannah died in a car crash.

Tony, despite all his misgivings about being a parent, couldn’t give up his child to be raised by someone else. He went to Ohio, paid for Hannah’s funeral, and took custody of his son. 

They’d never met in person. He’d only ever seen pictures of Blaine through the years. Seeing him now in a high chair, given some juice by an elderly lady from social services, it hit him for the first time that this kid was _his son_. The moment their eyes met he knew, without a doubt, that he’d do anything for his kid.

It almost killed him to realize that Blaine had his eyes. It was like looking into a mirror, except Blaine still had an innocence to him that Tony had lost a long time ago. He sure as hell hoped that he’d be able to preserve that innocence for a little while longer.

He took Blaine with him to New York, upgraded his bachelor pad so he’d have a room for his kid and an actual kitchen to prepare and eat meals in. Not that Tony had the first clue on how to cook anything except coffee, but what good was all his money if he couldn’t spend it on people who would make his life easier? So he hired a cook and a cleaning service – no nanny, though, he would _never_ hire a nanny for his kid, _ever_ – and thought that’d be the end of it.

It wasn’t, of course.

It was hard. How could it not have been? Tony, still so very young and inexperienced when it came to meaningful relationships, was so overwhelmed by the realization of being solely responsible for this small human’s life that he almost killed himself with alcohol poisoning that first week. But then something clicked in his head. He _was_ the only person in this world who Blaine had left, and he couldn’t continue to live his life the way he’d done so far. So he threw every last bottle out, going stone cold sober from one day to the next, and quit his social outings overnight, and wasn’t that a puzzle the press tried – and failed – to figure out?

He also, quietly and without notifying the board of directors, started steering Stark Industries away from weapon’s production and into development of alternative energy sources. He knew that there would be consequences somewhere down the road, but he didn’t want to have to look his kid in the face one day and explain to him why his father was responsible for countless deaths.

Blaine had his own demons to fight those first few weeks. He was too young to understand that his mother was never coming back and that the stranger who’d whisked him away from everything he knew was now his sole caretaker. He was clingy and extremely wary to let Tony out of his sight, cried almost constantly and didn’t eat very well. It drove Tony into a panic and resulted in the best pediatric doctors in the whole of New York to be on Tony’s speed dial. They all told him the same thing: Blaine was grieving, he was processing, and Tony was doing fine.

He had his doubts, but fifteen doctors telling him the same thing probably knew what they were talking about. He still reserved the right to remain sceptic, though.

They lived from week to week, with Tony working from home and doing his best to be there for his kid. He set up a playpen in his workshop for Blaine so he could keep an eye on him while still being productive, and it got easier. Blaine started to sleep through the night, and his appetite returned. He still didn’t like letting Tony out if his sight, though. Then again, that was a two-way street as Tony felt exactly the same about Blaine.

At one point, he stopped setting Blaine up in the playpen – after he’d stopped being terrified that his kid would kill himself on some machinery because Tony was too busy with work to keep him safe – and let him roam around the workshop. He was sure in the knowledge that Dum-E would keep his kid out of trouble. Or alert him in time if he couldn’t.

The first time Blaine smiled at Tony, it was like the sun had come out after a particularly hard and dreary winter.

A month turned into three turned into a year, and suddenly Blaine was four and had _opinions_ about things like his food or his clothes or his toys. Tony, even after all these months, was still amazed that he hadn’t killed his kid yet, and was maybe more indulgent with him than he should be. But what good was all his money if he couldn’t spoil his own kid once in a while?

Okay, more than once. Sue him.

It was an ordinary Thursday when Tony decided to do a little experiment. He’d noticed over the past few months that Blaine was always watching him curiously when he was tinkering with his machines, asking surprisingly insightful questions for a four-year-old. He also knew that his kid always sang along to the songs playing in Tony’s workshop and that he could spend hours quietly drawing the most intricate little pictures.

Now, Tony had sworn to himself that he would never force his son into anything, would let him be whoever he wanted to be, become whatever he wanted to become. Tony wasn’t Howard, he wouldn’t punish his son with neglect just because he didn’t turn out to be who Tony expected him to be. Blaine should be his own person, should make his own decisions. So in a fit of inspiration, Tony took a screwdriver, a crayon and a microphone, sat down on the floor in front of his son and put the items out between them.

Blaine looked up at him, a question on his face. Tony shrugged.

“There’s no wrong answer here, kid” he said. “Just choose what you want most.”

Blaine looked down, his brow furrowed in thought before he looked up at Tony again.

“What I want?” he asked, as if trying to make sure.

Tony nodded, curious now what his son would choose. His kid had a lot of interests, so there wasn’t really a wrong choice here. Knowing his son, he’d probably grab all three and be done with Tony’s experiment, proving yet again that his kid was a smart cookie.

Blaine stared down at the three items, his hands curled into loose fists on his knees. And then, before Tony could react or even process what was happening, he pushed all of them aside, stood up and threw his arms around Tony’s neck.

“I choose you,” Blaine declared, almost defiant.

Tony was frozen for a second, his heart racing. When he’d set up this little experiment, he didn’t even count himself as one of the choices for his son to settle on. Trust Blaine to blow his expectations out of the water in a completely unanticipated way.

He felt a lump rise in his throat at the realization that his son had chosen _him_. He swallowed, then slung his arms around him, pressed his small and fragile body tight against his own and drew a deep breath. He couldn’t speak for a moment, could barely _breathe_. God, he loved his kid so fucking much it physically _hurt_.

“You got me, buddy,” he rasped after he’d found his voice again. He closed his eyes to prevent the oncoming tears from falling, but they came anyway, spilling down his cheeks and soaking Blaine’s shirt. “You’ll always have me,” he added, barely audible.

He knew life had shit for you in store and that he shouldn’t promise Blaine something like that. Hannah was their best example that life wasn’t fair, that people wouldn’t always be there. But god damn it, he was an engineer and a certified genius. He would find a way to make sure that he’d always be there for his son.

He’d promised, after all. And Tony Stark kept his promises.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many feelings about Tony Stark as a dad. More specifically, as _Blaine's_ dad.
> 
> I always WANTED to write a big ass crossover fic with the X-Men where Magneto is Kurt's uncle and Tony is Blaine's dad and Blaine goes to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, so I really hope cranking this out means I have a shot at actually writing that story one of these days. No promises though.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
